Twice the Temptation (9 page)

 
“Come along, Doretta. Let’s see what the earl wants.”

 
Her maid giggled. “He wants to marry you, miss. That’s no secret at all.”

 
“I mean this morning.” He’d barely survived Almack’s last night. She’d hoped that he knew enough to stay in bed and rest. If he expired now, he wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors.

 
She swept into the morning room. The earl rose from his seat and gave a reverent bow. “Miss Munroe. I apologize for calling without making prior arrangements, but I’d hoped you would be available to have luncheon with me today.”

 
“Goodness,” she said, letting the annoyance she felt color her voice just a little. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve already made plans. I wish you had asked me last evening. You know how I dislike having to tell you no, my lord.”

 
“Oh, my humble apologies again, Miss Munroe.” He hurried forward and clasped both of her hands in his. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 
“It’s of no consequence. If you like, we can sit for a few minutes and you can say complimentary things about me. You did come all this way, after all.”

 
The earl chuckled, releasing one of her hands to guide her to the couch. “You’ve given me a very easy task. How can I not accept?”

 
For the next ten minutes he did exactly as she asked, complimenting her features, her hair, her gown, her overall keen sense of fashion, her voice—every insignificant quality she possessed. Evangeline smiled and contemplated the silliness of men that they could be so easily convinced to apologize for having the audacity to appear with a luncheon invitation. Her mother was correct; they needed to be guided, if only for their own sakes.

 
She glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Rawley was already ten minutes late. Perhaps he’d had another friend in need of assistance and had decided not to come calling at all. Again.

 
“You know,” Redmond was saying, “I feel the need to mention especially your fingers.”

 
“My fingers? There are ten, an altogether unremarkable fact.”

 
“Oh, no, my dear. It’s not that. It’s how well one of them would look with my signet ring on it.”

 
Good God, he was proposing, and better than a week ahead of her estimate. Of course, marriage to Redmond was precisely what she wanted, and it didn’t matter that he smelled of moths and horse liniment. But she had to admit she was somewhat disappointed that Rawley hadn’t even bothered to appear for their luncheon.

 
The diamond. More than half convinced that absolutely nothing would happen, she slipped it out of her pocket and tucked it under the closest couch pillow. Then she smiled. Now for the experiment. “You say the most flattering things, Lord Redmond. I—”

 
The morning room door opened. “My apologies,” Rawley’s deep drawl came, and he strolled into the room as confident as if he actually owned the place. “I seem to be tardy.”

 
“Yes, you are,” she returned as coolly as she could manage, considering that his appearance the moment the diamond left her possession had nearly stopped her heart. So if the jewel did alter luck, had her fortunes just changed for the better, or for the worse? “Another friend in need, I presume?”

 
“A damned milk cart overturned right in front of me. My tiger and I spent twenty minutes chasing urchins and cats and one rather frightening elderly woman out of the street before further carnage could ensue.” For the first time he glanced at her other guest. “Hello, Redmond. Didn’t see you there.”

 
“Rawley. If you’d give me a moment, I was speaking with Miss Munroe.”

 
For a second Connoll Addison’s gaze met Evangeline’s, his expression unreadable. “Of course. I’ll be in the foyer, Gilly.”

 
He’d used her familiar name deliberately. Not that she found it in the least significant that the man who’d been courting her for better than a month still called her Miss Munroe, while the marquis who’d known her for less than a week had already absconded with her pet name. He was simply rude and arrogant.

 
Once he’d left the room, Redmond seized her hand. “Say you’ll wear my ring, Miss Munroe.”

 
“My goodness,” she returned. “This is rather sudden, my lord. Might I…” She paused, looking at his brown, adoring eyes. “Might I ask you a favor?”

 
“Ask me anything. I would purchase you the moon, if you but asked for it.”

 
“Heavens, I don’t want the moon. But…well, will you kiss me?”

 
It was a stupid request, since as her mother had many times informed her, personal attraction had nothing to do with a marriage. On the other hand, however weak-minded a husband, he would still expect to share a bed on occasion with his wife—at least until she could convince him otherwise.

 
“I would be honored,” he breathed, then clenched her shoulders, drew her up to him, and pressed his tightly closed lips against hers.

 
It was like being kissed by a pig’s snout, or how she imagined that would be, anyway—damp, slightly bristled, and eliciting nothing but a faint disgust. She sat back, blinking. “Thank you, my lord,” she said faintly, resisting the urge to wipe the back of her hand across her lips.

 
“I would kiss you whenever you wish it, if you would only answer my question,” he said fervently.

 
Doretta shrieked and leaped to her feet. Dancing about like a madwoman, she flapped her skirts, brushing at them frantically. “Doretta! What’s—”

 
The door burst open again, Rawley striding into the room. “What’s amiss?” he asked, turning his gaze from Evangeline to her maid.

 
“A very big…a spider! On my dress!”

 
“Then hold still a moment,” he instructed, grabbing her arm. He gazed at the maid critically, then reached down to the level of her ankle, flicked a fin
ger at something, and stomped as a dark spot landed on the hardwood floor. “There you are. No harm done—except to the spider, of course.”

 
“Oh, thank you, my lord. I’m terrified of those crawly things.”

 
“Yes, I know what you mean. I refuse to feel kindly toward anything that can move in more directions than I can.” With a last reassuring pat on her arm, he faced Evangeline again. “Not to be rude, but I’ve been chasing about the street all morning, and I’m famished. Are you ready for our picnic?”

 
“Yes, I am.” She spared Redmond a glance. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but I do have a previous engagement. Perhaps we can continue our discussion at a more opportune time.”

 
“Of course. I am all patience for you, Miss Munroe.” His brown eyes slid over to the marquis. “Perhaps I’ll have a chat with your papa.”

 
“Please do,” she returned. As if it would be her father who granted her permission to marry. Everyone in the household knew that Lady Munroe would have the final say in that particular matter.

 
With a last glance in the direction of the couch and the hidden necklace, she touched Doretta’s shoulder. “Get the diamond and put it back in its box,” she whispered, and the maid nodded.

 
While Doretta hurried upstairs, Evangeline joined Connoll Addison in the foyer. Good luck or bad luck, he seemed to appear only when the diamond was not on her person. Today she would find out for certain which kind of luck he was for her, and she had more than a suspicion that she couldn’t do that with the Nightshade Diamond in hand.

 
Connoll kept an eye on Lord Redmond as he, Gilly, and her spider-fearing maid left the house. The earl, though, seemed content to remain inside. Better there than making a fool of himself over a girl less than half his age.

 
But it wasn’t just Redmond being foolish. Obviously Gilly felt the need to encourage the fellow, though he still wasn’t quite certain why. Money? Title? He had more of both than the earl did. And if he did say so himself, at least he hadn’t begun to sag in embarrassing places yet.

 
He shook himself as they reached his curricle. “Any luck yet, Quilling?” he asked his tiger.

 
The lad looked up from the bundle he held in one arm, the other hand being engaged with holding the horses. “No, m’lord. He still won’t let go.”

 
“What won’t let go?” Evangeline asked.

 
“No matter. He can have my coat until he changes his mind,” Connoll returned, offering a hand to help Evangeline onto the high seat. “While we were chasing children and felines out of harm’s way, one of them latched on to my greatcoat. One of the cats, not the children. Otherwise that could have been awkward.”

 
She chuckled. “May I see it?”

 
“Certainly, miss.” The tiger released the horses as Connoll took the reins, then walked back and held up the bundle to Evangeline before he and the maid climbed onto the back of the vehicle.

 
“Oh, it’s adorable,” Gilly said, peeling back a layer of coat to reveal a small gray ball of fur. “It’s just a kitten, poor thing.”

 
“Yes, I’m afraid the cart driver was a little too vigorous in defending his spilled milk, and he kicked the lad. I don’t think he hurt it, but the animal hasn’t set foot on the ground since. I carried him on the back of my leg for five minutes before I realized he was there.”

 
“Why do you think it’s a he?” she asked, stroking its back and making attractive cooing sounds. “I think it’s a girl.”

 
“Until we know for certain, she can be whatever you wish. I’m in no hurry to get my eyes scratched out for trying to discover its gender.”

 
“What are you going to do with her?”

 
“Wear her, apparently, if she won’t relinquish my coat.”

 
“You won’t throw her out in the street?”

 
He turned his head, gazing at her. “Providing a bowl of cream isn’t a very great sacrifice,” he said slowly. “I think we’ll manage.”

 
“Good,” she said, smiling.

 
“Unless you wish her.”

 
“Oh, no. Mama would never have an animal in the house. She doesn’t like to trip over things.”

 
There seemed to be a great many things her mother didn’t tolerate. “Then she’ll stay with me. I would appreciate if you would name her, though. The only thing I could come up with is Claws, or perhaps Scratchy, but that’s when she was a boy cat.”

 
With another chuckle, Evangeline freed the kitten’s claws from his coat and lifted her up to look her in the eye. “Elektra,” she said after a moment.

 
“Ah, the father-killing heroine of Greek myth.” Somehow, her choice wasn’t a bit surprising. She seemed something of a man-killer, herself.

 
“If you don’t like it, then choose something else.”

 
“Elektra is fine.”

 
“Hmph.”

 
“Truly. I like it. Elektra. Very nice. A strong name for a brave young kitten. All of the others ran away, you know. She stayed to get her share of milk.”

 
Finally Evangeline’s mouth softened again. Good. At least she wasn’t mad at him. Now, though, at the sight of her upcurved, slightly parted lips, he wanted to kiss her. He’d been dreaming of kissing her again for the past three nights, uncertain whether it had been as pleasant and stimulating as he remembered, or whether he’d been too drunk to realize that nothing spectacular had happened at all.